Ashes: A Hunger Games fic
by TryMeSeeWhatHappens
Summary: Being the daughter of the most famous people in the newly written history books sounds appetizing, but Aster and her little brother, Lane, soon learn that responsibility will be dropped onto their sheltered shoulders. They must step up with their parents to keep a broken country from spiraling backwards into chaos. [Ter is pronounced as 'tear the paper' sorry for any confusion!]
1. Chapter 1

This is what I thought Collins should have done after Mockingjay. It's completely original.

One

"Dad, are you okay?"

The kitchen light illuminates half of the house as I step off the last stair into the hall. His hand is clutching the back of a kitchen chair, the other on his forehead, and I can see the grimace of pain on his face. Pain and anger.

He doesn't answer until his fingers have relaxed and he sinks down into the chair with a sigh. "I'm fine. Just these headaches. Why are you awake?"

"Lane talks in his sleep. I thought I could make breakfast." I step slowly into the kitchen and take out a loaf of bread from the crisper. Bread my dad insists on making instead of buying from the Hob.

"That sounds good to me. You know a hungry mom is a cranky one."

I smile at this because it's completely true, though she'd never admit it.

"Want some cocoa?" I make four cups anyway, knowing everyone will want some soon enough.

As the bread warms, I busy myself with jam and cheese. I can feel my dad watching me, but I pretend not to notice.

"You know, Mrs. Mahoan called me last night." He says from the table.

"Mhm," I try to sound polite.

"Yeah, she says 'although her attendance has improved, she hasn't turned in any work in two weeks." His tone takes on that fatherly sternness that he could never quite keep up with me.

I turn and frown, crossing my arms over my chest. "She gives me pointless assignments." I protest. "And when I don't do it exactly how she wants it, she doesn't accept my work. So what's the point of turning it in?"

"Aster, you're fifteen. You've got to start taking on some responsibility." I can see he won't press it.

"You're right, I'll try harder, I promise." I say in my sweetest voice.

He sighs, but smiles and stands up to help me. "You better, or I'll hire Haymitch as your teacher."

I make a face. Haymitch is the last person I want to answer to.

When everything is made and looks good enough to dad, we go upstairs to wake up my mother. Gently, never urgently he always says.

She jerks awake anyway, then smiles. "Good morning."

"Come downstairs." They share a kiss and I take my leave, going to wake up Lane.

He's three years younger than me and the polar opposite. His blond hair and grey eyes have always made him stand out in Twelve, along with our father.

"What?" He groans when I shake his shoulder.

"Breakfast." I pull his blanket cocoon open and drag him off the bed, onto the floor.

He just rolls back up and goes still again.

"Fine, two cups of cocoa for me."

And before I reach the door, he's running down the hall and jumps over the railing on the second floor landing.

This gets a sharp scold from our mother who is constantly trying to keep it from looking like he's abused due to self-inflicted bruises.

I take the stairs like a normal person and sit down quietly. The sun is stretching out its' pink rays over the sky, as if it's not quite ready to wake up. Lane, as usual, talks on and on, leaving no room for silence. Dad joins in and with them together, telling jokes and making faces, it's hard to have a bad morning.

The phone rings and my dad rushes to answer it before Lane can.

"Hello?" He asks, holding Lane in a headlock. Then he smiles. "Hey, long time." There's a long silence. "Noon sounds perfect. Alright, see you then."

"Who was that?" My mother asks him suspiciously.

"Just someone. I'll be back before lunch. Gotta help the new manager down at the bakery." He kisses her then and runs out the door.

"He's never that excited about work." She says, looking at the closed door.

"Maybe they're getting a new shipment of frosting." I offer.

She laughs at this and looks at me and I see her eyes are lit up. But just as quickly as it happens, they fade and she looks away, now feigning happiness.

"I'm going to shower, then you and I are going to buy you a new shawl since yours is destroyed. Again."

"Um, actually." I stand and push my hair behind my ear. "Ozzy and Stine want me to meet them at the diner in the square."

"That's where you're going to meet them, but where are you going?"

She's always been able to see through me.

"Just around." I say.

"Aster, you're looking for trouble."

"Please." I laugh, hoping she won't make me stay in. "I am the trouble."

She just sighs and nods towards the door.

I dress quickly and pull on my mom's old leather boots that somehow fit me almost perfectly. Then I roll my hair into a bun, forming an 'O' on the top of my head. It's messy, but even if I cared, I didn't want to waste time fixing it. I throw a sweater into my bag at the last second.

When I get to the diner, Tee greats me from over the counter. Her mother and mine where acquainted when she was my age, or, that's what I've heard.

I jump up onto the empty bar and watch her wipe down tables. She's tall, much taller than I am. With wired muscles that are still somehow feminine. And her curly black hair is pulled into a tight ponytail. Her skin is tan from the summer sun.

"Meeting the boys, huh?" She asks.

"Yeah, but they're always late." I swing my feet and watch her work.

"Boys." She scoffs and rolls her soft brown eyes. Probably because I'm the one that's always late.

"Tell me about it." I laugh. Tee has always been easy to talk to, even if she's ten years older than I am. She's sweet and friendly to everyone. I've seen her slip extra meat into the skinnier kids stew that live around the Seam. She also has the attention of every single, or not, man for miles.

"Tell you about what?" Ozzy asks and launches a dirty miners hat at my head. I catch it from the air. Stine is right behind him, fidgeting over some contraption.

"Nothing, let's go." I hop down and toss him the hat. "See ya, Tee."

We walk out of the square, east, towards the old abandoned mines. Workers were layed off a couple of years ago when it was deemed unsafe. The machines were so old and broken down, they caused explosions almost daily. Now they're turned off and there's a new mine down past the Hob. It opened up twice as many jobs, which cut workers hours in half with just as much pay.

Only when we're sure no one can see us do we slip inside and down into its dark belly.

"Guys, I can't get dirty. My mom will have a cow if she even assumes I've been down here, so let's find this sign and go."

"Wow," Ozzy smirks. "Someone's extra prude today." Stine rolls his eyes at his brother.

I sigh, but go first into the left shaft. It slopes down almost immediately, so we have to walk along the mines wall engraved staircase. We land in one of the biggest man made caverns in District 12, which actually, isn't that big at all. I pull out my camera and take a few pictures for my bedroom wall, making sure the flash is on. Of an old pickaxe, hung up jackets, a cart filled to the brim with coal. Something shimmers in the light of the flash. A dog tag. It's covered in coal dust, but I shove it in my pocket.

"So where'd you see this thing anyway?" I ask, looking around the deserted mine.

"Just over here." Stine goes through what looks to have been a doorway of some sort, even though there's nothing rectangular about it.

We follow him into a greatly smaller room that's almost pitch black. There's some metallic clanking and shuffling.

"Here." He says and drags something out into the light.

It's a large yellow sign that reads 'Flammable'

"That's it?" Ozzy asks, obviously disappointed.

"I need the bolts on it." Stine explains. He lets it smash into the ground and returns to the room to retrieve something. He comes back with two pairs of pliers and hands one to his brother. "Be useful for once, would you?"

They get to work on pulling out the bolts and I snap a picture of the sign.

"You're going to blind us here." Stine blinks hard.

"Sorry," I say and move to examine a sign-in board bound to a wall by hooks. "It's like this place is haunted." I say more to myself then anyone.

"Well with any luck, you scared the dead away with that stupid camera." Ozzy stands and hands Stine the beloved bolts. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah, I'm starving anyway." He starts up the stairs and Ozzy follows. I'm just on the steps when I hear a whistle. A slow, quiet, four note whistle from the back room. I freeze, then shake my head. We were just in there. This place is getting to me.

But I hurry to catch up to Ozzy, not wanting to be last down there. When we finally get into the open, we brush each other off enough to make it look like regular old dirt.

"So what are you making, anyway?" I take the wad of metal from Stine.

"It's a sort of portable microwave. Only, not for food." He gives me a menacing smile.

I squint at him, not understanding. "Oookay."

He winks then takes the metal and shoves it into his bag.

"Don't look now, but here comes your boyfriend." Ozzy says loudly enough for anyone close enough to hear.

We all look. "What a jerk." I say.

A tall, brooding Seam kid, Simon Teller is stalking towards us from the square. He puckers his lips at me and I roll my eyes. "He's probably just looking for a fight." I smile and push my friends in the other direction.

We dive into the crowded streets across from the Hob shopping market and into the open stores. There's two doors to each bathroom, connecting both sides of the markets. We race through the mens and leave through the backside. When we reach my dad's bakery, they wave and take off in the opposite direction of the village. I make my way home, quickly stopping on the porch to take off my boots because they're covered in black soot. I wipe them off the best I can on the doormat before placing them in the box by the front door. When I ease inside, I hear my mom screaming from the living room. I sit on the bottom of the steps to listen.

"Haymitch, I'm not doing it!" She's saying.

"I'm no happier than you are about this, sweetheart, but they need you. And me and Peeta." He's oddly much calmer than she is, and he sounds one hundred percent sober.

"No. Peeta and I are done with ALL of it. We're just getting our lives back to normal. I have kids now! You tell Plutarch that I'm flattered, but my flame is extinguished."

There's a brief pause. "You'll get to tell him yourself. He's on a plane here now."

There's a sound of glass shattering and I jump. Then two pairs of feet coming towards the kitchen. I sprint silently onto the landing and wait for Haymitch to leave. He's shaking his head and muttering profanity to himself.

"Mom?" I call down the stairs.

"Yeah." She sounds drained. "I'm here."

I find her in the kitchen with her face buried into her folded hands. Her hair is down and I wonder if she even took a shower or just took a nap.

"What were you and Haymitch fighting about?" I lean against the door frame.

"They want me and your father," She looks up, but not at me. "To do an interview on our lives after the revolution."

"That's not so bad." I try.

She continues, "We'll be staying in the Capitol a while. They need our opinion on the new government format."

"You're leaving?

"We. We're leaving."

There's a knot in my stomach. I've never been out of District Twelve, ever. Haymitch always watched Lane and I when we were small and my parents were frequently away in One and Two to help with reconstruction. I never thought that I'd go.

"When?" I steady my voice.

"Tonight." She sighs.


	2. Chapter 2

It's nine until noon when my father comes home and my mother tells him about the situation. It's as if you can physically see his spirit drop. However, he doesn't stay down for long.

"I have a surprise for you." He says and takes both of her hands, pulling her up from her chair.

"I don't like surprises, Peeta." She grumbles although she's letting him drag her onto the porch.

I follow and sit down on our old rocker. Lane joins me, sitting on my lap.

"What?" She asks, looking out at the empty streets.

"Wait, just wait." He says, his smile stretched ear to ear.

After a minute, a long black car pulls into the village and slowly makes its way down our street. I've only seen a car a handful of times. This one looks like the one that used to take my parents to their train when they visited the Districts.

"Who-" My mom stops herself, leaning onto the railing.

It pulls right up to our front yard. A door opens and a large dark skinned man wearing thick rimmed glasses steps out. He's smiling.

"Beetee?" My mom breathes. She looks at my dad then back to the man. She's taking a step towards him when a taller woman steps from the car waving at her. "Johanna." A hand comes up to cover her mouth.

And then one more man steps out. His dark hair and eyes make me wonder if he's from here, he has the Seam look. He's a head taller than everyone else, with broad shoulders. His face is lit up with a smile that could silence a room. Only his clothes are too clean, too pressed, too... new. He must be from somewhere else.

"Hey Catnip." He calls up to my mother who looks as if she's going to pass out.

For a moment, they just stare at each other. It seems like a million emotions pass between them. Then she's running. He catches her and spins her around and around. I can hear her laughing from here.

I look up at my dad who's still smiling. "Come on," He says then goes down to join them.

Now they're all hugging and greeting each other, I can't help but notice how my mothers' arms keep going back to the man who'd spun her. Lane and I stand aside, not knowing what to do for a minute until they finish hugging and my dad calls us for introductions.

"This is Lane." He shakes everyone's hand firmly.

"And Aster." I get hugs. Except from the dark haired man. He stares at me for so long, I have to glance at my mother.

"God," He breathes. "She looks just like..." He doesn't finish.

"I know." My mother replies.

Then they share a moment that's older than life itself.

Beetee coughs, breaking the silence. "Your children are beautiful." Then he turns to us. "I'm Beete, this is Johanna, and Gale. We were friends with your parents when they were your age." Then he mumbles something about lights.

"I'll help you with the bags, Gale." My dad says and they open the trunk.

I follow my mother and her friends into the kitchen where everyone takes a place around the table but me. Lane starts a fire, which makes him remember a story about catching his underwear on fire. He tells them how he had to run through the square butt naked with a bright red butt. It gets more than enough laughs.

My mother is glowing, happier than I've ever seen her. Ever. She's talking, joking, and laughing. Her smile actually reaches her eyes and stays there. An image I can only ever get a glimpse of.

When my dad comes in with Gale, it's like she's ten years younger. I can't help but stare at her now, she's beautiful. I wonder how I'd never noticed it before. Then I begin to think that she could have always looked like how she does now. Before the nightmares and the scars. Before me, who she can't even look at because it brings up 'old memories'.

"Aster, Ozzy and Stine are here." My dad says when he walks past me. "I'll call Haymitch over."

"Oh, then it will really be a party." Johanna laughs and pretends to chug an empty glass.

I open the front door and stop the two from coming inside like they usually would. Instead, I only open the door enough to squeeze out before shutting it behind me.

"What's going on?" They ask as one.

I sigh and lean against the porch railing to watch the flurries that have just started to fall.

"Mom's got some friends over. I don't know any of them."

"Sounds like a party." Stine says.

"I've got to tell you guys something." I say. They come to join me at the railing on either side of me. They don't say anything, so I continue. "I'm leaving for the Capitol today."

"What!" They both exclaim.

"You guys have got to stop doing that, it's really creepy." I sigh again. "They're meeting with the president."

No one says anything for a moment.

"Well," Ozzy says slowly. "It was nice knowing ya."

Stine and I lean over and punch his arm hard.

"Such violence." Haymitch says. He's stomping across my yard carrying three bottles of white wine. He almost falls down the steps of the porch, but steadies himself. He kicks the front door open before I can offer my help, probably breaking the locks again. I see him hold them up over his head and everyone cheer.

"Sounds like my kind of party." Ozzy wiggles his eyebrows before going to join the adults inside.

I watch him, knowing I should expect nothing more, but it still hurts me a little.

"You know he's actually sad to see you leave." Stine says quietly. I hug him. Because I need one and because he's the only one who is there to give me one. And somewhere deep down, because I want to hug him. Because he's strong and stable, unlike me at the moment.

He holds me tightly, resting his scruffy chin on the top of my head.

"Thanks, Stine." I say into his shoulder.

He kisses my forehead and I smile.

Things calm down at about three when everyone has moved into the living room. When I think it's safe, and that no one will ask us to stay, I scoot over to Ozzy who is trying to keep up in a conversation with Stine and Beetee.

"Can we get out of here?" I whisper to him. He nods and I ask Beetee as politely as I can if I can steal Stine away. Before we even reach the entrance of the village, I hear Lane calling after me.

"Ter!" He runs up beside us and grabs my sleeve. "Let me come."

"Don't you want to stay?" I ask, glancing at my friends for help. They provide none, even turn away.

"No, I want to go into the woods with you guys."

I kneel down in front of him and look into his grey eyes. "How'd you know about that?"

He seems embarrassed but looks at me.

"I followed you."

We all groan.

"Why?" I ask.

"You always run off and I get bored. I don't have anything to do all day when you're gone." His face is so sad, I feel as if I should apologize.

"Fine." I touch his face. "But quietly. Never tell a soul."

His face brightens and we make our way through the square and into the meadow that marks the end of the town. There's a wire fence put up to keep wild dogs out. Somewhere there is a loose spot. Ozzy had spotted it one winter while we were skipping our math lessons. Still, I had to poke around for it a bit before I could spot it.

After we slip under, we find a nice sized tree and scale it. Stine has to help Lane out a little, but he learns quickly. We each settle into a branch and just sit, listening to the creatures around us. We usually do this after a long day, just sit and listen. Sometimes I take pictures for my wall. Ozzy rips up the ones I take of him when he falls asleep.

Of course, Lane bores of the calm easily and starts to make up games. He throws acorns at random and whoever catches the most wins.

I win three out of three.

Next, he does an impression of someone in town and we have to guess who it could possibly be. Not that his acting skills are incredible, but Sine wins those rounds. I cross the line at hide and seek, though, so I watch the three below run around like rabid squirrels trying to beat one another to base. I end up laughing so hard that I almost fall out of the tree.

"Alright." Ozzy huffs. "Who won that one, Aster?" He calls up from the ground.

"Sorry Lane, that one goes to Ozzy." I stand up in the fork of the tree to nod at him.

"I call cheats!" Lane protests. "Tie breaker. To the lake and back."

"You're on, little man."

This is how the rest of the day goes. Games and jokes and laughs. I almost forget that I'll be in the Capitol tomorrow. Because this will be the last time with these three in who knows how long.

I don't have much time to think about it before I notice how quiet it is. The air feels wrong, even the birds have stopped singing. My heart skips a beat and I look down.

"Guys?" I call.

They're turned in the direction of home, looking towards the sky. I follow their gaze, and through the trees, I see it. An enormous hovercraft hanging over the far side of town. The Village.

I jump from my perch and land on the cold ground, still staring up at the thing. It's shaped in a slight triangular form, the silver outside reflects the sunlight. It could easily fit over a thousand people inside.

"We should get back." I hardly whisper, but they hear me.

We silently make our way back to and under the fence. From the meadow, we can see the full enormity of the craft. There's smaller ones circling around it. On the streets, everyone is waiting and when they see me and my brother, some start to murmer. They know it's a Capitol hovercraft. And they know it's for us. But I ignore them and continue with Lane pulled close to my side. Ozzy and Stine follow without a word, all the way back to my house where a line of soldiers form a barrier from the long metal ladder to my front door.

We push past them and go inside where my parents are talking quietly with two older women. One I recognize as the president, Paylor.

Two more soilders stand at either side of our front door. I clear my throat to make our presence known.

"Oh, lovely, the children are home." Says a taller grey haired woman who smiles warmly at us.

"Guys, go pack everything you need for a few weeks." My dad says to us.

I watch Ozzy and Stine as I heard Lane up the stairs. In his room, I slowly help him pack clothes and shoes and underwear that aren't stained or have holes. He shoves an old baby blanket inside. I roll my eyes, but say nothing.

When everything is zipped up, I feel it's safe enough for me to leave him unattended. When I get into my room, I shut the door and lock it. My clothes are filthy, so I decide to change. There's a clinking in my pocket, which reminds me of the dog tags.

I take it to my bathroom and rinse them under cold water. For good measure, I scrub them with a piece of a pink loufa.

'The scars on our souls are the worst ones of all' -A

Crucis Naysmith

And a date of birth, probably, are engraved on the front tag. The second is a smaller, somehow more feminine one. I've heard the words before.

'Don't forget who the enemy is.'

A mocking jay symbol.

Leslie Trunket

I put it on and glance at myself in the mirror as I tuck it into my sweater and zip up my fur vest. My hair is a mess, but I continue packing and sling my camera over my neck. When I open my door, a soldier takes both of my bags and carries them effortlessly down the steps, outside.

Ozzy and Stine are still waiting in the hall. I hug them both for a long time, knowing that once I let go, I'll have to leave. Ozzy ruffles my birds' nest of a bun then pulls away.

"Take some pictures for us." Stine smiles as we step outside.

"Trust me, I will." I smile back.

"Come on, Aster." My mom calls from the bottom of the ladder. She's watching us from beside my father and brother.

"I left my window unlocked. If I can call, it will be late on a weekend." I say quietly. This is when my parents would call during their trips.

They nod and I turn, joining everyone. Without looking back, we're boarded onto the craft. My dad hugs our shoulders and laughs lightly.

"You guys are in for a treat."


	3. Chapter 3

Inside, it doesn't even feel like we're on a hovercraft. The walls are red velvet and green decorative garland is strung across everything it can reach. There's gold and silver mirrors and doors and a wooden dining table that matches the floor. It's more of a floating mansion.

I take Lanes' hand before he can break something expensive.

Someone sighs, Plutarch.

"They've gone overboard this time."

"They?" My father asks.

He smiles. "Flavius and Octavia."

My parents seem to brighten at these names, though I can't see why.

"Venia?" My mother asks.

"She's been very ill and is at home receiving treatment." He frowns.

"Can I see them?" She sounds hopeful.

"Of course, but first we must go over a few things miss- I mean Mrs. Everdeen."

We're led to a small, dark meeting room made out of the same dark wood as the floors. We sit in spinable chairs around a long oval table. There's a hologram box in the center. It's projecting a map of Panem. There are shades of red marking where individual governments have been temporarily placed. The lights slowly dim around us until they're completely off. Plutarch plucks a small remote from his jacket pocket. He presses a button and the image shifts to an ever-changing interview, all with the same host.

"First thing's first. We have to figure out what to do with the government. Of course, we will have some type of democracy." He starts.

"Shouldn't Paylor be here?" My mother doesn't seem sure.

"Oh, she'll be given a word for word recap." He assures us.

"Well, I think each district should have their own representatives. You know, someone everyone chooses." My dad says encouragingly. "But they should compare to each other. We're supposed to be united now."

"Wont having congress like that causes us to argue over national matters?" My mother interjects, looking at him. "Like before."

"That could be a problem." Plutarch nods to himself.

"So we keep it partyless. Represent everyone, not just one group." My dad shrugs.

"That's... Very ideal, Peeta, but not how things work. People have opinions, preferences." My mother shakes her head.

"Well then, what do you think?" His tone is light, but I see that irritated look in his eyes he gets sometimes.

"What if we have militarized officials to turn to for a situation like that? Someone who just wants what's going to work." Gale throws in.

The debate goes on for about half an hour, back and forth. Lane, Beete, and I quietly keep out of the crossfire. Even if I had any idea how to run government, I'm sure my opinion is not needed. They argue over politics, economics, the name of the country, education. my father and Gale tend to occasionally agree, but for every positive my father throws out, my mother has a negative.

"Alright, this isn't getting anywhere. Let's agree to disagree and come back to this, shall we?" Haymitch finally says over the chatter. He waits for the room to go silent before sitting back down.

"Okay," Plutarch soothes down his suit. "The interview. We want all of the remaining victors to do one final interview. It would be a positive thing."

"And What sort of questions will be asked of us? 'How's your life now that you have all the time in the world to think about how many people you've murdered?'" Johannah leans back in her chair, eyebrows raised.

"No, like i said, positive." He looks frustrated. "More like 'How is your family life, What job do you have, What major changes have you seen?' You guys have to work with me here." He glances between her and my mother who is still shaking her head slightly. Then he continues, ignoring both of them and looking at us.

"This time it will be slightly different than what you're used to. You will dress yourselves, nicely. We do not have, nor do we need prep teams anymore. But you are having a photo shoot after."

My father laughs. "It's been a while since we've been pampered. I think we can manage it."

"Good. You'll be going in groups of two. Beetee and Johannah, Katniss and Peeta. We're bringing in victors from across Panem, Annie is already here, but she is going on with her son. Then there will be friends and family. Your children and Gale will each have separate interviews. Gale, you can tell them that you're no longer in the forces." He pauses to let Gale nod "This will be aired across every television in Panem as usual. Then there will be pictures taken for the new history books. Can you handle that, Mrs. Everdeen, can you smile for just one day?"

She adjusts herself in her seat, sitting up straighter, and then puts on a show-stopping smile that even fools me for a second.

"I've been practicing." She spits through her teeth.

"Good. Last thing then." He clicks the remote and pictures of faces flick slowly along. I see Johanna, Haymitch, my mother, father, Beete, others that seem familiar. "We are going to have a well, tribute, to every tribute ever put into the Games. Every year in schools, at work, home. So that people never forget why we fought, why we can never go back."

"No!" My mother and Johanna stand, Johannas chair falls over.

Plutarchs eyes widen. "Not every gruesome derail, but enough to-"

"Enough to scare them shitless?" Johanna practically screams at him. Gale tries to pull her back away from the table, but she jerks her hand away from him.

"Johanna's right, that's not even an option." My mother punches the table.

"History tends to repeat itself. Time fogs reality and people forget. If we don't show people what it was like, our children, they will stop caring."

She shakes her head, strands of her braids coming loose. "Not like that."

"Katniss," My father rubs her arm. "He's right, it's nothing we didn't see as kids."

She turns on him now, looking him hard in the eyes. "And that's completely okay, isn't it?" Then to Plutarch. "Fine, whatever. Do what you want, but I don't want my name in that bucket." And she leaves.

Haymitch gets up, holding up one first finger to us and exits, probably going to calm her down.

Johanna leaves too, but not after them, she turns to the left, the other direction.

There's a brief silence, broken by a deep, amused sigh.

"She's still a handful." Gale breathes.

My dad gives a small chuckle. "Well, she is still Katniss deep down." Then he looks at Lane and me. "What do you think?"

"About my mother being a handful or the showing of the games?" I ask.

He smiles and fixes a strand of my hair. "Both."

I look to the hologram, still showing faces of fallen and alive tributes. Mostly fallen. There's a small twelve year old girl projecting. "I think we should show just how bad the Games were. No one should ever be allowed to forget. Forgive, maybe, but never forget." I say. "And as for mom, I think she wants that part of her life behind her. She's probably just really tired."

I look up to see if I have over-spoke. Beetee smiles at me from across the table, Gale nods slowly, staring at me with those hard eyes.

"I think you're right." My dad stands.

Plutarch seems like he's battling a war in his head, but nods a dismissal to us. We empty the room then, leaving him to his thoughts. My dad goes off to find my mother and Beetee wonders off to my left.

Lane sticks to my side quietly as I walk about the craft, running my fingers along glass tables, chairs, anything with a texture. He's copying me, except he's bored and wants a good reaction. But I ignore him, only wishing I knew where they'd put our bags so I could get film for my camera.

Unlike my mother, I want to remember everything. Always have a straw to grasp at. And even when i don't remember taking a picture, it's there, whereas the memory would have just slipped away unnoticed. I don't want any part of my life to go unnoticed. Even if no one else notices but me.

"Are you guys bored?"

We turn to Gale who's watching us from the doorway to the library.

"Come on, I'll show you something cool."

He leads us down hallways to the back of the ship where things turn from fancy to straight up dull. There's a large open white walled room of metal.

"It's the training area for when soldiers get bored around here. Also we store the weapons here." He holds the door for us. "But don't tell your mother I brought you back here." He winks.

Lane is all too excited to learn to shoot a gun, wear a vest, kill a practice dummy. I just watch him, noting how he is actually focusing. Paying attention to everything Gale is telling him. Listening to even the safety rules. He's usually everywhere and can't pay attention for long. Gale's good at holding his interest, though. Pretty soon, not only can Lane shoot, but he can hit the target seven out of eight times.

"Better than me, little man." Gale gives him a high five. "What about you, Aster, want to try?"

I make a face, but take the pistol. I step up to the booth and adjust my ear plugs. Then I stand how Gale had shown Lane, feet apart, arms out.

"Nice posture, keep both eyes open and focus on what you're shooting for." His voice takes on that teacher tone again. "Breathe out before you shoot so you're steady and brace yourself against the kick of the gun."

I do everything he says, giving my arms a little lack to absorb the shock. I pull the trigger once, twice, again. All three shots hit the dummy in the chest, within the kill ring.

"Beginners luck!" Lane shouts up at me.

I smile at him. "I know, I could never do it again." I admit.

"Try." Gale says and presses a button. The dummy moves a few yards back.

I shoot again, squinting a little to see the target. This time I aim for the head. This time, there's an even smaller separation between each shot. The camera zoomed onto the target shows my shots up close.

"That's amazing!" Lane touches the screen.

"Try with this." Gale plucks a long bow from the wall behind us. He takes the gun and holsters it. Then he shows me how to hold the bow, how tightly I should pull it back. Tells me to stand with one foot in front of the other, opposite my shooting arm. I do. I shoot. Bulls-eye.

I take a deep breath as Gale helps me string another arrow. I aim for the same dummy. I shoot.

I split the arrow.

There's deafening silence then Gale laughs. Really laughs. "You're a natural. Bet I know where you got that from."

"Yeah, I have a theory about that too."

My mother is in the doorway, shaking her now unbraided head but smiling at me. She walks over and takes the bow from my hands, examining it.

"I haven't shot a bow in years." Her eyes go away for a moment before she hands the bow back to Gale. "Haymitch has made dinner mandatory." She smiles falsely and motions for us to follow. Lane takes her hand and launches into his story of shooting a gun as they walk away.

"Thanks, Gale." I smile up at him.

He hangs the bow back on the wall and squeezes my shoulder.

"You know, I've always wanted a daughter." He says thoughtfully as we make our way back to the main part of the ship.

"Do you have any?" I ask. "Kids I mean."

"No," He chuckles. "No, not yet."

"Well you'd be a good father. No one has ever gotten Lane to sit still for that long before." I laugh. "And my father usually just winds him up."

"I bet you keep your mother sane." He says.

I bite my lip at this.

"Who do I look just like?" I whisper. We're just in front of the dining area now.

His lip twitches, his face hard. But I know he'll answer. He stops and lowers his voice too.

"Your mother had a sister when she was your age. She was younger, she died at thirteen and her name was Prim. She was blond, but you..." His eyes are pained. "You're the spitting image of her."

I nod slowly as I take this in, looking down the hallway to our right.

"Come on, let's eat." He lets me walk in first before following me.

Already, everyone is chatting casually around the large table. My mother is laughing with two older, oddly colored people. A man and a woman. There's a boy my age talking to Lane. He looks familiar. A dainty woman with reddish hair is watching them with a worried expression on her small face. Johanna pulls Gale away to Beetee where they pick back up on a conversation as if it had only been seconds since being interrupted.

I take a seat next to Lane and smile politely at the two.

"Alright everyone, come, come." the older woman, Effie I remember, stands and clinks her fork against a wine glass. "Let me start by saying, I am so happy to have our old team back in the same room together." She sniffles and Haymitch raises his glass to her. "And that we've got big, big days ahead. So let's all enjoy our first meal together in such a long time. To a new country."

"To a new country!" The room echoes.

The table spins apart, looking like Swiss cheese for a moment. Plates rise from the holes with mountains of food on them. I look over to catch my father's eyes. He smiles and nods. There's another pair of eyes I catch. Eyes blue as the sea. I turn away from them and take a small bite of sweet bread.


	4. Chapter 4

After dinner we're escorted to our 'living quarters' as one soldier called it. They're small and remind me of a dollhouse. Everything's slightly tinier than it should be, making me feel giant. There's a twin bed in the corner of the living room and a two seating blue velvet couch in the middle. There's another bedroom that only fits a double bed comfortably. The bathroom is just large enough to pee and get out before you get claustrophobic.

As soon as I spot my bag, I open the side pocket and load a roll of film into my camera. Then I stand by the door until no one is paying attention to me and slip out.

It's not long before I realize that there's nothing interesting enough to take a picture of, so I just wonder around the darkened hallways. I turn a corner near the training area and hear laughter. There's an open room lit up by white ceiling lamps. A few soldiers are talking loudly as they shine their boots. I'm just about to turn and leave when one of them calls out for me to join them. Hesitantly, I move to stand in the doorway, wearing a polite smile on my face.

"What's your name?" One of them asks. I recognize him as the boy who carried my bags.

"Aster Everdeen." I reply.

"Daughter of the famous Katniss Everdeen, I told you." He slaps one of his friends' shoulders. "Well come on then Everdeen, take a seat." He pats the spot next to him twice.

I sit on a stool across from a row of shiny black leather boots instead. He smiles at this.

"I'm Banster," He continues. "That's Iberis, Miles and Beaufort. This must be your first time on the presidents' hovercraft; I've never seen you in person."

"This is my first time."

"I've heard that first times come in three." Says Iberis with an eyebrow wiggle.

I pretend to know what he means, looking between them as they laugh. I wrap my arms around my stomach.

"So are you a photographer? What's with the camera?" Banster asks.

My hand goes to the camera around my neck instinctively. "No," I smile shyly. "I just like to take pictures for my bedroom wall."

They laugh. Not in a mean way, but I feel uncomfortable, so I change the subject. "How old are you guys, you seem pretty young to be soldiers."

"We're all eighteen." Miles says. "We all joined at sixteen. How about yourself?"

"Too young for you to be concerned." A female voice says from behind me. "Get those boots done before I get your commander down here." It's gentle but holds an edge of authority that is hard to ignore.

All four boys drop their heads and continue to work. I stand and turn to see the boy with the teal eyes from dinner. Behind him is the red headed woman. The boy smirks at the soldiers and pushes a cart past me into the room.

"Come on, dear, we'll leave them to their duties." She motions me out and in front of her with a swift arm movement.

"You're Annie, aren't you? My parents have spoken fondly of you." I say, following her down back the way I came. Careful not to mention Finnick, who I know well from girls around the Seam. He's some sort of romance hero.

"Yes, and this is my son Felix." She gives me a smile. "You should go back to your room now and stay near your parents. They'll worry."

I give a small nod and squeeze past the two.

When I return, Lane says our mother is already asleep and our father is making sure she's alright in such a small bed. She could thrash about and fall onto the floor.

I sit with my brother on the short couch; He's playing with a controller that's turning channels on a small screen inside the wall parallel to us. I tuck my legs under me and take the camera from my neck, laying it on the floor.

"I made a friend today." Lane says, not looking up at me, but I can see the smile on his face.

"Yeah, I saw." I say encouragingly. He has more friends than I do. All the boys from his grade, and even some older, have been to our house at least once. Yet he's always excited to talk to a new person.

"He's going to show me around the Capitol when we get there. He's been there before." He settles on a cooking show where a large man with orange curls and a tall white chef's hat is carefully dicing some strange discolored pink fruit.

"And does he like it there?" I ask him.

"Yes," He says matter-of-factly. "Except where they're rebuilding. He says it's pretty."

"Hm." I stretch my arms above me then lay my head against the armrest. "Well wake me when we get there."

When I open my eyes, Lane is glued to my legs, snoring loud enough to wake the dead. I extract myself from his grasp and stand stiffly. My vest is too warm and sweat has given me a grimy feeling. I decide to shower, but get out quickly, feeling too large in the cauldron-sized tub. Then I throw the dirty clothes into my bag before pulling on a fresh sweater. It's gray and I probably stole it from my mother at one point. Putting on my leggings is harder because my legs are still damp. They're the color of dark moss with three pockets on each leg. I take my time lacing up my boots and putting my camera around my neck. Then do my best to wake up Lane before leaving the apartment.

"Morning," Haymitch says when I reach the dining room. He's picking at the food around a delicate looking display, a glass of red wine in his left hand.

"Morning," I say.

"Eat, get ready to land." He takes a bite out of an apple, pointing at the food table, and then wiggles his finger at my head. "And do something with that hair."

I smile and attempt to fix my bun. And I'm not actually hungry, so I just grab a bottle of grape juice and sip it. Except it's not juice and it burns my throat going down. It fizzles when I slosh it around in my mouth. I shudder as another mouthful goes down.

A hand reaches over my shoulder and takes one of the grape drinks. I turn to Felix, who's slowly chewing on something. He smiles at me. My eyebrows shoot up in question.

"How's the grape soda?" He asks. His voice is deep and amused.

I raise it towards him. "Not as good as the real stuff."

"Real stuff?" He asks, his eyebrows furrow.

"Actual squeezed grapes." I say slowly.

His face takes on this expression of concentration like this is a hard concept to grasp. I realize that he probably doesn't have woods or even a garden where he lives. The city is all trains and buildings and technology. I smile and shake my head.

"Nevermind." I say.

He's quick to find another subject. It reminds me of Lane's eerie ability to find something to talk about.

"I haven't had a conversation with someone my age in a while. I was glad when my mother told me you would be here." He picks up a piece of glazed bread and pops it into his mouth.

By now, everyone's lazily filing into the dining room around us. I see Lane across the room and he gives me a sour look. I lean against the food table and glance around, finding a group of soldiers talking. Banster and Miles catch my eyes and I look back at Felix.

"Aren't those soldiers your age?" I ask, playing with the cap of my bottle.

"Those guys are jerks. I'd rather cut off my left foot than hang out with them." That smirk appears on his face again.

"Because the right foot would be too extreme." He laughs and shakes his head. "So are you excited to get home then?"

"Why?" He asks, his voice muffled by another piece of bread.

"You must miss your friends." I explain, watching his chiseled face as he chews. His eyes are so blue I swear I could drown in them. It dawns on me that he's attractive. It also dawns on me that I noticed.

He snorts. "I must have given you the wrong impression, Aster. No, I do not have friends at home to miss." He smiles then. "Not all of us can be the beautiful daughter of District Twelves star crossed lovers."

"No, I guess they can't." I laugh. "But don't sound so sure that I have friends either. Only two back in Twelve."

I think about this for a moment. The looks I got from kids at school. The murmurs. Then, like most kids who can afford it, I was pulled out for private tutoring. But even now, at the Hob, in the square, I only talk to kids my own age with Ozzy or Stine around.

I met Ozzy in the meadow by the woods. He was skipping his classes, like me. I'd sat down four yards away from him and he'd barely even glanced at me. He was reading a really thick book on historical landmarks. I watched him for a while as his eyes skimmed back and forth across the pages.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." He'd said, still engrossed in his book.

So I lifted my camera and clicked the red capture button. It flashed and ejected the image into its' tray. Ozzys head snapped up so fast it was only a blur. I smiled at him and held the picture between my fingers, waving it in the air.

He stood and marched over to me, snatching it. Then after staring at me like I was insane, sat down and handed me the book.

"I'll give this back if you can finish this in two days."

"Deal."

I got the picture back the next day. We met in the same spot and he'd brought Stine with him.

"Well maybe we can be friends." Felix says, bringing me back to the present.

"Maybe we can, Felix."


	5. Chapter 5

"Aster, is everything alright in there?" Octavia knocks twice on the bathroom door. The tone of her voice says I should not be taking this long.

I've been staring at myself in the wall sized mirror hanging in Paylors mansion. Even though we're supposed to dress ourselves, Octavia had begged my mother to let her pick my dress. I only agreed because the look I got from my mother said that refusing would be the wrong answer.

"Yes," I call out to her. Then I glance once more at the deep blue dress. It's strapless with strangely slick, bumpy ruffles. From my chest, the dress flares out to my knees in a thick puff. Tiny red sparkles gradually fade downward. And I have on monstrous heels made of red glass and crystalline.

I step out and give her a curious look. A hand flies to her round chest and she takes a deep breath, but says nothing. Instead, she rushes me back into the bathroom and sits me down on a plush chair. We're quiet for a few minutes as she studies me from behind.

"Would you be opposed to taking off a few inches?" She taps a comb to her lower lip.

I think for a moment. "No, that would be fine."

There's a click behind me, the box of torture that contained instruments to pluck eyebrows and wax legs.

"I'm sorry," Octavia says. "I just haven't been able to do this in the longest time. For about seven years now. I own a salon in District Two, but they've got enough hands as it is." She lets my hair fall to my shoulders and strokes it with a fine toothed comb. "Not that you're helping much. Some people are just born camera ready."

There's a sniiiiiip, then lightness. My muscles go rigid. What have I done? I drop my eyes immediately to my lap. Inch by inch falls to the floor in a thick black carpet. The weightlessness is terrifying, and I have to breathe from my nose slowly.

"There, take a look." She unbuttons the tarp and shakes it over the pile behind me. When I finally get the courage to look up, the girl that stares back is someone else. 'Girl' is ill fitting. No, because before me is a woman I've never seen before. She shakes her head of shoulder length hair.

"It's gorgeous," I whisper. "Thank you."

Octavia claps excitedly and opens the door for me. When it's shut, I remove the shoes and run a hand through my waves. I'm almost embarrassed to walk down the spiral staircase into the crowded ballroom. But a camera crew is hustling around, setting up backgrounds, lights, taping down wires. They hardly notice me as I squeeze through them to find my parents.

They're talking quietly to each other next to a marble island in the kitchen. Lane is tucked under my dad's right arms, rocking impatiently on his heels. His brown cotton sweater is untucked and wrinkled in some places. My mother sees me first and I want to duck out of the room and hide. Will she be mad about my hair?

She smiles, pats her own tight red dress under curled, loose hair. "Beautiful." She mouths to me.

I feel my cheeks flush with warmth. Octavia hadn't wanted to put much makeup on me besides plum flavored lip gloss and mascara. My cheeks are probably bright red.

"Ter, you look like a girl!" Lane shouts to me.

"Thanks," I mumble, walking over and smoothing out his shirt. "You look clean."

My dad pats my hair and hugs me close to his side.

"I like it short, you had too much before." He says.

"Gale, Johannah, Beetee. You two are up next." A woman's voice calls out above the chatter.

They appear from the den, Johannah as stunning and unapproachable as the white tiger. They all sit in cushioned chairs, equally spread apart.

"Aster, let's have a talk." Haymitch taps my shoulder. I follow him into the dim study. I tug my shoes back on, leaning against a dark wood desk for balance. He waits for me to finish, I smile sheepishly.

"When they ask you questions, they might be invasive. I need you to answer as honestly as you can. And if you have to, then you lie. However, no matter what, we want to make a good impression. You are the perfect Panem family."

I'm watching him, confused. But he seems sober.

"Got it?" He insists.

"Why would I lie?" I ask.

"Sometimes there's the truth, and sometimes there's the right answer. We need the second one. Talk about meals you eat together, games, or even inside jokes."

"Okay, got it." I nod.

"I'll tell you something your mom probably hasn't." His eyes meet mine. "This nation is still very vulnerable. And your parents are who most of the people are looking at for an example. And you reflect on them." He scratches the thin stubble on his chin. "Now, there are people out there who want things to go back to the way they were. We need this to go well."

"Why would they want to revert?" I ask lamely, not understanding.

"They're just scared. Put on a smile." He pats my cheek softly like he's done since I was a baby. Then he leaves.

I haul myself onto the desk and watch the closed door. My heavy feet swing under me. The sound of a door behind me causes my spine to straighten a little.

"Hey, Aster." Felix is standing in the archway, backlit by yellow lights and wearing a dark blue sweater with a baggy collar. The sleeves are rolled up to his inner elbow, and a black shirt is peeking out from underneath. Black jeans roll to reveal white ankle length shoes.

He struts the length of the room, turns, poses, and plops down in the office chair. "You almost look as good as me."

"Thanks," I scoff.

"No, seriously, loving the hair."

"It's not too short?" My hand instinctively goes to my hair.

"Nope," He pauses to spin around once in the chair. "Then again, I never saw it down before."

"And you probably never will again."

He shakes his head. Light flickers off his golden hair.

"Felix!" Annie calls from the other room. She sounds urgent. I jump down and follow him. Even in these stupidly high heels, he's inches taller than I am.

Lane cuts us off, looking up at me eagerly. "Where's your camera?" He asks.

"In the upstairs bathroom." I'm still talking when he takes off up the stairs on all fours.

"Mom." Felix says.

She turns, relief flooding her features. She couldn't be that worried after just a few minutes, could she?

Lane comes stomping back down the stairs, holding my camera extra carefully. Good, there isn't another one anywhere.

"Ozzy will love this!" There's the familiar sound of my cameras shutter and the sound of an ejecting picture.

I groan. "Lane, no."

He hands the camera to my mother who gives me an apologetic look. Felix is all the happy to take pictures. He makes me pose with him, then Lane. Even my dad joins in. We are scolded by Plutarch for being too loud. I make Lane put my camera back upstairs in our guest room.

"Alright, you kids are up." The interviewer snaps her perfectly manicured fingers at my brother and I.

I nudge Lane forward and we sit next to each other on the puffy chairs. There's a bright lamp on either side of us so bright, it's hot. The cameraman adjusts the neck, lowing the light to eye level. A screen shows two split camera angles, one toe to head, the other just shoulders up. Lane is already fidgeting in his seat beside me.

"Okay, look at me, not the camera." The woman instructs us.

Instantly, I look at her. But the blinking red light is hard to ignore.

"Barb, we're rolling in three..." He stops talking but mouths the last two numbers.

"Hello Lane, Aster." She smiles at us with bright, perfect teeth.

I smile back, hearing Haymitchs' voice in the back of my mind.

"First, let me say, I've been dying to meet you two for my whole career. And you're just as cute as you are in pictures!" She gives a small laugh. "My first question, something we've all been wondering here in the Capitol, is what things are like in Twelve now. I know you wouldn't remember the reconstruction, but give us a picture. As you know, the press isn't allowed into the borders."

Lane speaks up first. "It's not as pretty as here, but I like living there." He must have talked to Haymitch too. "The memorial in the square is always full of people. That's the best place to be."

Barb looks to me, an expectant smile on her face. I re-cross my legs, uncomfortable.

"Everyone is neighborly. You just know everyone. After what happened, and rebuilding, I think that brought everyone closer. Families help each other out. There's still a lot of rebuilding to do, they're going to fill up the old mines soon. And in town, the trains are running."

"So if there was one thing you could change... Anything at all?"

This is Lanes question. He thinks a moment. "Nothing."

"Good answer, what about you Aster?"

I shake my head. "There's nothing to change."

Barb nods, more to herself. Then she looks down at the cards in her lap and flips through them.

"You two are in private schooling. But used to be in public education. Why did your parents take you out? Were there problems with any of the kids?"

Lane and I exchange a quick look.

"No," I say. "It's just, if you have enough money, you get a tutor." She looks confused. "There aren't many teachers in Twelve anymore. So the classes are large, and it's hard to learn like that."

She files through her cards again, not looking particularly happy. But her voice is pleasant enough.

"Let's talk about your family," She smiles again, white teeth showing. "Your parents are a big part of this new nation. Do you two agree with how they've encouraged the change in Panem? Is this something you're willing to help with?"

I'm taken aback. Why would she ask that? Of course we agree with our parents.

"My parents changed Panem for the better." Lane nods as I speak. "And I, we, will do anything to make them proud. Anything else would be disrespectful. They've worked so hard and lost so much for this nation."

I don't mention how that shouldn't even be a question, but again, Haymitch is in my head. So I smile like a proud daughter. She smiles back.

"Thank you. Aster Everdeen and Lane Mellark, everyone." She looks right at the camera. "Until next time, Barb Edenthaw." The lights cut out and we shake hands. Barb stands as we do and fixes her skirt. "You two are just like your parents. It was a pleasure."

"Like-wise!" Lane says.

She turns to her crew, who are already packing their things into large black cases.

I see Haymitch across the room.

"Okay?" I mouth.

He holds up an 'ok' sign with his fingers. "Perfect." He mouths.

My body relaxes and my muscles relax a little. Someone calls a break and I'm allowed to remove my shoes and eat lunch with my brother and Felix. I try to tug my hair band, but ends stick out everywhere. Down it is then.


	6. Chapter 6

It's dark when I open my eyes and kick off the sweaty sheets that threaten to drown me. Distant lights from the city illuminate half of everything in my house sized guest bedroom. It throws hard shaped shadows against the floor and wall.

With a groan, I drag my feet off the puffy princess bed and watch my toes dangle for a second. They're still sore from walking in those heels all day. How anyone can parade around in them like running shoes is a mystery.

A glance at the clock tells me that I've only slept an hour. Instead of lying back down, I stand as quietly as possible, then sit at the white vanity next to the door. A small, clear telephone rests on its' stand before me. I pick it up gently, as if it could break under my fingertips.

After dialing my number, I placed its curved figure between my ear and shoulder. It molds perfectly to my face. There's three wind chime-like buzzes telling me it's connecting.

By the fourth time, I'm about to hang up when Ozzys' deep voice makes me jump.

"Nice hair,"

I smile, forgetting he can't see me. "Were you sleeping by the phone? How pathetic."

"Actually, we were just going through your underwear drawer. Bor-ing."

I roll my eyes and start to pace the room in small circles. There's just the sound of his yawning for a while.

Then he says "Is it horrible there?"

"No," I admit. "Not at all, actually. It's really pretty. The people are as intricate as they are on television... But nice enough."

"Hm," He sighs. There's some ruffling on his end.

When he doesn't say anything more, I ask, "Where's Stine?"

"Downstairs." He says, then," Do you really need this many pictures of me?"

I try my best to chuckle evilly. "You haven't seen the worst of it."

He laughs sarcastically.

We continue talking quietly until I can hear people stirring in the hallway outside my door. The sun has risen above the skyline. I know they'll be doing role call soon.

"I've got to go." I whisper "Photo-shoot at nine."

"Yeah, I was supposed to be at work an hour ago." I can hear his sarcastic smile. He's always hated things like this.

"Tell Stine good morning."

"Goodbye, Ter."

"Bye,"

I hang up and place the phone back on its' stand. My hand just grasps the bathroom door when Effie tiptoes in with a wakeup call. She yammers on as I shower, then wraps me in a towel, drying me like you would a dog.

"Today is a fun day." She chirps. "After the shoot, you'll be going on a tour while your parents meet with Paylor."

Knowing no boundaries, she yanks the towel off and retrieves a simple green dress my mother had chosen and back underwear. I'm about to ask for a pair of slacks when she claps and smiles. She places my camera around my neck and winks.

"Do something with that hair." Then she retreats, humming to herself.

After an hour of awkwardly posing with my family in front of a camera crew, Lane and I are released to a smiley tour guide. We're lead to a long, topless vehicle covered in colorful paint. Felix waves to us, having saved two seats near the front. I notice that he's also dressed casually today.

There's a couple other people on the bus who seems to try their best to ignore us. Besides a polite smile or nod, they look away.

As soon as the driver pulls onto another street, we're swarmed with paparazzi. Lights flash and make me jump. I pick up my camera and snap a picture of one. This seems to stun them for a second. Then generate a whole new wave of flashes and calls.

"Aster, over here! Miss Everdeen, one over here! Don't move, Lane look here!"

Felix leans in and whispers. "Ignore them. But look happy at all times." I turn towards him, confused. "They can't say anything bad if you're smiling."

So I do. It's not easy, but I focus on taking pictures of buildings and people and landmarks. Lane is short, so he sits on my lap in order to see over the rails. Felix points out what the guide misses. Like bars where kids meet on weekends and small underground shops no one can quite remember the names of.

Lane is more interested in what food places are around than anything else. We stay inside the central city, avoiding the skeleton left over from war.

"My father died somewhere around here." Felix whispers.

I glance at him.

"Not sure where, though. No one ever wants to talk about it."

"I can't imagine," I say.

"Driver, please make an immediate left." The guide says in an unusual voice. The car jerks around the corner. The other way is crowded with unhappy looking citizens. They're blocking the streets, holding up crude signs.

Down with the Everdeens, Done with the Capitol, two birds with one stone

A country without Games is a country without order

Go back Twelve, your specialty is coal, not government

"Tell us how you really feel." Felix sneers. "If no one's told you yet, that's the Panem Reform. You'd think after fifteen years, they'd give it up. They're the people who were most hurt by the revolution. You know, they lost jobs, money… Children."

I don't reply. Just watch them disappear around the corner.

"This is unacceptable." Effie slaps down a stack of magazines. Freshly printed.

"Damn right it is." Haymitch sinks into the presidents' faux fur couch.

Paylor sits, arms crossed between my father and Gale.

"Look at this," Effie stabs a polished nail at an article. "First night in Capitol, Katniss and Peeta send their children out to face press." She lets out an exasperated breath. "Unacceptable."

"Let's not focus on the bad ones." My dad picks up another one and flips through it. "Everdeen and Mellark, shown next to Odair, sit poised and mature while _bombarded_ by paparazzi on Capitol tour." He hands me the article. "See, not all bad."

Lane leans over my arm to read. "Do we smell romance? Felix Odair and Aster Everdeen not only exchanged private remarks on the V.I.P tour, but looked adorable doing it."

The adults exchange amused remarks. I roll my eyes.

Then my mother steps into the room with Johanna. She has an armful of magazines and an angry line for a mouth.

"Protesters cut short the Capitol tour for the Mellark family. If it was that easy to stop them, why are we in this mess now?" Johanna reads.

"Do we sense another uprising?" My mother continues. "If it were up to the people, things would likely go back to life before. After a brief period of calm, rioters, still angry at the loss of the Games, have assembled large groups around Panem. Everything Katniss Everdeen stands for is the exact reason the Games were ever put into place." She doesn't finish.

"Everybody calm down." Paylor speaks for the first time. "The Capitol people have always opposed the new government. It's just that now, they've got something more to disapprove of."

I look around the room, obviously missing something everyone else isn't. Why, after nearly 16 years, are the protests so drastic? I glance at my mother. She'd never give me an answer.

Then I catch Felix's eyes. Before he can look away, I know he knows.

I wait for everyone to leave the giant living room before kicking off my shoes and curling up under a blanket. Felix stays behind, looking like a child who'd lost recess.

"Spill." I say, hoping he will.

He sighs. "That'd be going against your parents requests."

"My parents or my mom's? She is not that scary. Just tell me."

He looks uncomfortable in his seat.

"Your dad is thinking about running for presidency after Paylor steps down."

I just stare at him.

"Or your mother. She's running for vice."

"You're kidding me. They just decided this is two days?"

He shakes his head. "They've been thinking about it for a year. There are rumors around the Capitol."

If I've ever felt anger towards my parents before, it was nothing compared to now. The fact that they could blatantly hide something like this from me FOR A YEAR is insulting. I never cared about not watching the Games like all the other children had. Never asked about how my mother got her scars, or what makes her scream at night after fifteen years. That seemed like pushing into a part of her life that would be rude to enter. She's always told me half-truths, never explained anything before. But this was different. We'd have to move. To the Capitol. And I'd leave the only two friends I've ever been able to make.

I interrupt my own thoughts. "When are they planning on telling us?"

He just shrugs.

I look past him, out the wall length window. The sky is bright orange and setting lowly. It's smaller than in Twelve. I wish I could run away and hide in the woods right now. Maybe forever.

"I should get back to my mother." He stands and dusts off his pants, like there was dirt there.

"Wait, Felix…" He looks up at me. "That bar you were telling me about. What time do they open?"

His lip lifts into half of a smile. "You thinking about going for a cup of tea, Everdeen?"

I scoff. "Come on, unless you're afraid mommy will catch you."

His blue eyes light up at the challenge. "Get a coat with a hood."


End file.
